


Shattered

by Monorchism



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: A LOT OF DIALOGUE, Angst, Drama, Feelings, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Interviews, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Michael is scared, Slow Burn, ashtons maybe a better friend, calum is a good friend, kinda but not rly, malum bromance, michael and luke share a house, which makes things even worse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 20:40:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10544012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monorchism/pseuds/Monorchism
Summary: There was a noise, then, that sounded distinctly like the sound of a heart shattering, which I was familiar with since I had made the same noise a week ago, when Michael had first screamed at me, saying he didn't love me and wanted me to leave. Except this time, I wasn't the one who it came from.orluke loves michael and michael says he doesnt love luke(but he does)





	

**Author's Note:**

> this was in my drafts idk i think its the longest one shot ive written and i kinda like it ok  
> and the title???? who knows  
> warnings: swearing i guess i think thats it

Michael emerged after hours of silence, falling into the empty space next to me and immediately leaning into me, urging me to wrap my arm around him. He was warm, the way he always was after a nap, and looked even more tired than he had before he went into his room, but more content.

I didn't bother questioning what had worked him up before. I was just glad he was here now, seemingly happy and sleepy and cuddly. I felt, as his best friend, most of my happiness was planted in Michael's mind. If his brain was at peace, so was I. If he was having another breakdown, throwing things against his bedroom wall just to hear the smash, I felt it.

He never said anything, but I liked to think it was the same for him. I wasn't nearly as dramatic as he was, but he could always tell when I was upset, and it seemed to hurt him, too. Knowing that he was also affected by me often helped me try to better control my emotions.

"Where'd Cal go?" He murmured into my shoulder.

I let my hand run through his hair a few times. "Left when you did. You know he just comes over to see you."

It was true. Calum and I were good friends, but he had known Michael since they were kids. Before the band, they were rarely separated. They still spent most of their time together, but Michael preferred to be alone when he was in one of his moods, and Calum wasn't quite used to it, yet. He told me once that when they were kids, Michael would sneak out his bedroom window in the middle of the night and run all the way to Calum's house across town.

Mostly, Michael would go to his room and stay in there for hours when he was sad, blasting music he had listened to in year nine. Sometimes, I'd stand outside his door, trying to block out the music until I could hear him breathing, wondering if he was in there at all or if he'd snuck out to go see Calum. I wouldn't mind if he did.

Occasionally, though, Michael would just sit in silence next to me, waiting for me to say something. He rarely ever responded; would just take it as an invitation to crawl into my lap, closing his eyes and letting me stroke his cheek and rub his back and play with his hair and admire how beautiful he is. I liked those moments.

"That's not true. He likes you, too." Michael assured me, mistaking my words for jealousy.

"I know that," I told him, "He liked me before you did."

Michael whined a little, opening his eyes to give me a look that basically said shut up. I got that look a lot. It was often accompanied by the fondest gaze I'd ever seen.

"Those were the dark days," He muttered, eyes slipping closed again.

I cracked a smile, resting my hand on his waist where his shirt had ridden up. "What are these days, then?"

"I don't know. The good days. Shut up." He paused. "The bright days. No, that's stupid."

I laughed, shaking just enough for him to grumble and sit up, settling for barely leaning against me.

"You're stupid." I retorted, nudging my head against his.

"Shut up, Luke."

 

******************

 

"Where is he?" Calum demanded, pushing past me into my house, eyes wide and searching as he glanced around the room before beginning to move through to the next one.

"His room," I told him, following him. "He stormed there after he... Well, after."

Calum stopped. He turned to me and put his hand on my chest to stop me, too, and then gave me a hard look. "You should leave."

It was then that I realized Calum was only there for Michael. He didn't come to comfort me, or make Michael talk to me. He just came to be Michael's friend, like he always had been. It was hard to be upset about it when I was so goddamn thankful that Michael had someone he could always count on. Even if it wasn't me.

I didn't bother arguing with Cal, or telling him that he couldn't kick me out of my own house. I just nodded, stepping backwards and hitting another body. So Ashton had come along, too. Probably to take care of me while Cal went to Mike. For a fleeting moment, I thought about how nice it was of him to think so far ahead, knowing Cal would leave me and I'd still be heartbroken and desperate.

In our moment of silence, we heard something collide with the wall and shatter, and I cringed. I felt Ash take my hand and begin to pull me away as Calum, not sparing us another glance, turned and strode straight into the war-zone without a hint of fear. He was a brave man.

Ashton and I walked for a while, even though I had seen his car parked outside the flat. I was staring at my shoes as we moved, hands shoved in the pockets of Michael's sweater that I was wearing. It was more mine than his at this point, anyway.

"What was it about this time?" Ash asked finally, glancing at me only for a second before resuming his faraway gaze.

I pulled my lip between my teeth, debating what to say. "I don't know, I... I don't know. He just...got mad. I guess." I said, shrugging as if it wasn't a big deal.

I heard Ashton inhale, but didn't dare look at him, scared he would see how wet my eyes suddenly were. He nudged my shoulder and led me through a door, and I realized belatedly that we had walked all the way to his house, which was no small feat.

"Why'd you leave the car?" I asked.

It was his turn to shrug. "Figured Cal would want it for when he leaves. And thought walking might help clear your head."

"Thanks." I mumbled, moving to the couch and sitting, immediately pulling my knees to my chest in what was my signature I-feel-scared-and-vulnerable-and-alone position. Ashton got busy making tea, humming quietly.

"You know he loves you." He said, just loud enough for me to hear.

I rested my chin on my knees and watched him work, trying to place the song he was humming and coming up short. "No. I don't."

For whatever reason, this shook Ashton. He quickly spun to face me, whole body tensed, looking absolutely heartbroken when he saw me. I imagined I didn't look much different.

"Luke..." He started, and that was when I began to cry. Big, ugly tears running down my cheeks, soaking into the material of my jeans when they fell from my chin. I didn't move; didn't bother to wipe them off or turn my face away from Ash. There was no point.

The kettle was already on, water beginning to boil, and Ashton walked over until he could reach me, and then pulled me into a tight hug, which was when the crying turned into sobbing.

"He doesn't, Ash. He doesn't."

Ashton shushed me, squeezing me so tight I had no choice but to feel safe. He was always the best hugger in the band, despite not doling them out generously.

"Yes he does. He's just a big idiot, okay? You're his best friend, Luke. He loves you so much."

I shook my head angrily, frustrated that everyone kept telling me the same thing when I knew it wasn't true. I had known for years, but I let myself believe what everyone said, because it was what I wanted to hear. Now, though, there was simply no debate.

"No, Ash, he doesn't. He told me."

Again, he froze. Slowly, he pulled back, staring at me as if trying to make sure I wasn't lying. I had no idea why I'd lie about something so painful, but I went with it. I watched the surprise on his face turn to something much, much worse, and then he was standing.

"I'm gonna get you a blanket. And start the fire. And make that tea, right. You stay here." Then he was practically running out of the room, hand digging for his phone in his pocket. I could only imagine he was calling Calum to tell him this new information.

I stayed where I was, but I'd be lying if I didn't try to decipher what Ashton was saying. He was too far, though, and I could only hear a few words, none of which were of any importance.

By the time he got back, I had already poured us both a cup of tea. While I was making it, I could hear his voice getting louder, and knew he was probably arguing with Calum on my behalf. Calum was a good friend, but I'd be stupid if I thought he'd ever take my side over Mike's. They had some weird bond that I wasn't sure I'd ever understand. It had sort of become Ashton's job to stand with me in the event of an argument, even if he agreed more with the other side. The balance was what made everything go smoothly.

He wasn't carrying a blanket, and he didn't go to the fireplace. He just took the mug I was offering and sat across from me at his table.

"What'd he say?" I asked, looking at him over the rim of my own mug.

He looked surprised, as if he really thought I didn't know he had left just to call Cal.

"Oh, uh. Nothing. Just." He shrugged, refusing to meet my eye, and I knew it was worse than I'd thought.

"Ash. What." I prompted, steeling myself.

"It's...nothing. Just, usually Mike calms down enough by now not to say stupid stuff,"

"Unless it's the truth. What did he say?"

He looked at me, scared of what my reaction would be. Finally, he sighed. I watched his shoulders slump and knew he had given in. "He said he meant everything he said to you. That's it."

I felt my face go white. I was glad my tea was on the table, because I surely would have dropped it. I had expected insults; anger-fuelled words backed by nothing but blind fury. Usually, Michael was quick to apologize after he calmed down. He was never the type to be too proud to know when he had been a dick, and I was thankful, because I was more sensitive than I liked to pretend, especially when it came to Michael. But I hadn't been expecting this; a calm confirmation of the cruel things he had said to me before storming to his room and surely making a dangerous mess with all the glass I had heard being thrown.

I stood, making Ashton eye me curiously.

"I think I'm gonna go for a walk." I said, voice completely void of emotion.

Ashton furrowed his eyebrows, tilting his head. "Luke, I don't think that's such a good idea."

I ignored him, already pulling the door open.

"I'll call you later. Don't worry. And don't tell Cal I left."

I waited until I was five minutes away from his house before I pulled my phone out, scrolling through my contacts until I found who I was looking for; a particularly nice member of our security, who also doubled as a driver in times of need.

"Hey, I need you to pick me up and drive me to the airport."

 

*************************

 

Ashton had been mad at first, leaving angry voicemails and texts with proper punctuation. Calum was mad, too, but mostly upset. He felt guilty, like it was his fault for being there for Michael. He sent me messages apologizing, saying he loved me but had to take care of Michael and he didn't mean to make me feel like he was mad at me. I wanted to reply and tell him it wasn't his fault, not at all, but in the end I didn't reply to either of them. I stayed in my room, my old room, smelling my mother cooking downstairs, but refusing to eat.

The angry messages soon gave way to desperate pleas for me to come home. I wanted to scream that I was home, but it felt too much like giving in.

We were technically on a 'break,' so there was nothing management could do, but they were pissed. They sent people to my family house to try and take me back, but my mother screamed at them that I needed some time and I was overworked and goddammit let the poor boy see his family you assholes.

They settled for leaving me messages - mostly flight details. They booked me tickets back and told me when I had to be at the airport and then screamed at me down the phone when I didn't show up. I had to keep up appearances, they said. I had to make the fans happy. I hung up before I could ask them when I was supposed to make myself happy.

It was a week before I answered one of Ashton's calls.

"Hello?" I said, pretending I didn't feel incredibly awkward.

"Luke," He said, sounding simultaneously angry and relieved.

"Hey, Ash."

"You went home." He said. It sounded like an accusation.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

I wished he could see the bewildered look on my face. "Because."

He sighed. I heard a voice in the background.

"Are you with Cal?" I asked, rolling onto my side and bunching the corner of my pillow on my fist.

"Yeah, we're at home." He said. I was silent for a moment, hoping he would answer my next question without me having to ask. No such luck.

"Is Mike there?"

"No."

I held my phone away from my mouth as I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Luke," Ash said, and I could hear from the change of his voice that he had put me on speaker. "Why'd you leave?"

I closed my eyes, feeling a tear slip out. I took a shaky breath. "That's what he wanted."

"What? Michael?" Ashton asked.

"Yeah."

"He wanted you to go home?" He sounded confused, and I could imagine the look he was giving Calum right then.

"Well," I paused, thinking of how to phrase it. "Not exactly."

"Luke," It was Calum now. "He wouldn't tell me anything. What did he say to you?"

I rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling and making my tears change course halfway down my face. "He just...wanted me to leave."

"I don't think he wanted you to leave the entirety of the country, mate." Ashton said, letting out a weak laugh. I pictured him, all the way in LA, probably sitting in his living room with Cal, two mugs on the coffee table, one filled with tea and one with coffee.

"Well," I started, swallowing the lump in my throat. "He specifically wanted me to leave the band, but I figured the country was the next step. Why not just bite the bullet, you know?" I tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a sob, and I was met with silence. It lasted long enough that I was sure they could hear me crying and sniffling like a blubbering idiot.

"But you're not...you didn't...Luke. You're not quitting the band. Right?" Ashton asked, closer to the phone than before, voice shaky.

I pushed myself up, sitting against the headboard. It was getting harder to hold my phone to my ear with my trembling hands, so I followed Ashton's lead and put it on speaker, letting it drop to the mattress next to me. Without my face covering the screen, I could see Ashton's contact photo. I stared at it.

"Well, I haven't yet. But that's mostly because management won't listen to me long enough for me to do it."

I heard a door close through the phone and wondered what had happened.

"Ash?" I asked, tapping the screen when it started to go dark. I kept looking at the picture of Ashton's big, goofy grin.

"Yeah, Luke, I'm here." He sounded distraught, and I thought maybe he was crying, too.

"What was that?" I asked, referring to the door. I sniffled, using my arm to wipe the tears off my cheeks, but they kept coming.

I was all too aware that leaving the band most likely meant leaving the best friends I had ever known. Without tour forcing us together, I was sure they'd be too busy for me. If they even wanted to still be my friends, that is. I might be ruining their careers, as well, and that would be unforgivable.

"So you're not coming back?" He asked, ignoring my question.

"No, Ash, I...I can't. You don't know what he said; how he said it. It was different than any fight we've had before. I just...I can't be around him. It hurts too much, knowing he hates me." I explained, pausing every so often to steady my voice.

"He loves you." Calum said, sounding like it was the only thing he'd ever be sure of.

"You're his best friend, Cal. You know that's not true."

A pause, and then, "Just come back, alright? We can sort everything out. Mike will apologize and everything will be fine. You'll go back to being best friends who cuddle too much and share a bed more often than not even though your rooms are right next door to each other." Ashton pleaded.

"I can't," I muttered, shaking my head. "He doesn't love me. He doesn't even like me."

"Then we'll come to you. I'm not gonna let you just give up like this, Luke. We all love you and need you." Ashton said, his leader-type-personality coming out. He didn't sound upset anymore, just determined.

"Yeah, and we'll live happily ever after." Cal chimed in, sounding less convinced but willing to try.

"Guys." I said, running my hand down my face. "You don't understand. It's like school all over again, except worse, because now I thought I actually had a chance. You know, I would have settled with just being his bandmate, but I got lucky; he wanted to be friends! He took me under his wing and protected me and got my hopes up. He's the best friend I've ever had. You all are.

"In school, he was just a fantasy; a dream I never expected to come true. He was so cool, and didn't care about the stupid stuff. I remember thinking he was more sane when he didn't like me, that he must be crazy to want to hang out with me, to film bad covers in my room. But I took it, because I'm selfish and I love him. And it turned into something amazing. I mean, look at us. We're in a fucking band! And people like us! ...I don't know. Maybe he's coming to his senses, finally realizing what a mistake it was to let me in. I didn't mean to get attached, you know? I just...I couldn't pass up the opportunity to get closer to the guy I've been in love with since, what? Year seven? Eight? It was a dream come true, okay? And now, I guess, he's woken up. It's fine. I had a few good years.

"You guys...you don't need me to be a good band. You're gonna do great. But I...I can't come back and put myself through that. It's torture. It hurts to look at him. He wanted me gone, and I'm gone. Simple. I'd do anything he asked, and he knew it, and he still asked for this. The end. It's fine. I'm fine."

It was quiet on the other end, but I had kept tapping the screen so I could stare at Ash's face while I poured my heart out, so I knew the call hadn't ended.

There was a noise, then, that sounded distinctly like the sound of a heart shattering, which I was familiar with since I had made the same noise a week ago, when Michael had first screamed at me, saying he didn't love me and wanted me to leave. Except this time, I wasn't the one who it came from. I knew immediately that it was Michael, and I felt my face flush. I forced myself to look away from my phone, and that's when I saw my mother standing in the doorway looking shocked.

It was suddenly all too much, knowing both my mother and Michael had been listening to words that weren't intended for them, and I seized up, ending the call and staring at my mum, terrified of what her reaction might be. 

 

**********************

 

I had almost left the house before my mum could say anything, but frankly, I was tired of running. I just sat and waited for her to explode, but it never came. She cried and told me she wished I would have felt like I could talk to her about everything that was happening, but that she wasn't mad and she loved me and would always support me.

I was with her until she sat next to me on my bed and told me to talk to Michael. I tried to tell her exactly why I couldn't do that, but she cut me off. She had heard everything I'd said, and didn't believe Michael didn't love me.

"You've never been happier than that first day you came home from school and told me Michael had sat with you and Calum at lunch. You spent years coming home and going straight to your room, not coming out until you could smell food. I was so worried you'd never make any friends. Calum's a good guy, and he made you happy, but nobody made you light up like Michael did. Still does." She told me, affectionately rubbing my back.

"That just proves that I'm in love with him, not that he reciprocates it." I muttered, leaning away from her.

"Luke, baby, trust me. That boy is in love with you. I can see it."

I shook my head, ignoring everything she was saying.

"He broke my heart. You're supposed to hate him."

She laughed, her eyes crinkling up with glee. "I could never hate Mike."

She left it at that, patting my hand twice before standing and leaving the room with no further explanation.

 

***********************

 

The next time any of them called, it was Calum. I almost didn't answer, terrified that he'd be with Michael.

"Hello?" I greeted when I'd worked up the courage to risk it.

"Hey." Cal said, sounding too casual.

"What's up?" I asked tentatively.

"Just wondering if you've come to your fucking senses, yet."

I laughed, holding the phone away from my mouth while I did it, all too aware of how obnoxious my laugh could be.

"I don't think so." I finally said, smile lingering on my face.

"Alright. Just thought I'd check. Bye."

He hung up before I could say anything, and I was left staring at my phone, confusion written all over my face. It was such a random conversation, especially given the time of night it was. At least, for me. I hadn't memorized the time difference between Australia and LA.

My mum had gone to sleep a couple hours before, and I was close to doing the same. I was already in my bed, warm and tired and as content as I could be given the situation. 

 

*******************

 

When I woke up, Ashton was sleeping next to me. Despite what I knew it meant, I decided to relish in it for a little while longer. I moved closer to him, finding comfort in the familiar warmth of sleeping next to another body. I closed my eyes, but didn't fall back to sleep. I couldn't - I knew that he didn't come alone. At the very least, Calum was downstairs. I didn't let myself think about who else could be there.

"Mm, good morning." Ash grumbled, blinking blearily and pushing his face further into my pillow.

I decided to bypass the formalities. "Why'd you come?"

He rolled his eyes before letting them close again. "Luke. You know why we came."

I felt myself tense at his use of the word 'we.' He noticed, opening one eye to gauge my reaction and offering me a sad smile. I didn't know what that meant. It could easily have been either a Michael's not here because he doesn't love you and doesn't care about trying to get you to re-join the band smile or a Michael's downstairs waiting for you I'm sorry I know you didn't want to see him because now you know how he really feels about you smile.

"Well. Since you're up." He stretched, groaning as he did so.

I stayed perfectly still. The light from the crack between my curtains cast a line of sunlight across his face, and he cringed as it hit his eye.

Ashton had slept in this bed with me before - many times. When we were still in school, all four of us were constantly together, hanging out at one of our houses until it became too late to go home, and then we would make our way to our makeshift beds, whether it be the couch, the floor, or an actual bed. I had shared this exact bed with each of them multiple times, and it had never been a problem, but I was suddenly all to aware of my feet hanging off the edge of the mattress when I uncurled my legs, and the fact that Ashton was clinging desperately to the edge of the blanket that once covered both of us no problem, but now seemed like it had been made to fit a toddler.

"I think Cal's making breakfast." Ashton told me. I had no idea why he would think that, as he had been asleep and there was no discernible scent of bacon or pancakes.

But I followed him out of my room anyway, rubbing my eyes and running my fingers through my hair carelessly. I mindlessly trailed after him until we reached the top of the stairs, where I could hear the radio playing one of our songs softly. I stopped walking.

"How did you get in?" I said instead of asking what I really wanted to know.

"Your mom was awake." He replied.

My mom left for work quite early in the morning, since she was a teacher, and a quick glance at my phone told me it was now after noon. I had no idea how long they had been in my house or what they had been doing in that time.

Ashton started moving again, making it three steps down before I grabbed his arm. He looked at me expectantly.

"Is he here?" I asked quietly, all too aware that if he was, he would hear me ask the question.

Ashton hesitated. "He's... in the city."

So he wasn't in my house. It was what I wanted to hear, but for some reason it made my already shattered heart break a little more. He had probably been dragged here against his will, desperate to never see me again, and had finally put his foot down when Ashton and Calum had told him they were going to my house.

It proved that he wanted nothing to do with me. That he was glad to finally have gotten rid of me, and was now angry that the others were trying to get me back. He didn't feel bad. He wasn't sorry. He meant everything he said. There was no doubt left in my mind.

Ashton pulled me into a hug. I wasn't crying, but I wasn't too far from it.

"C'mon. Calum wants to punch you and then hug you."

I forced out a small chuckle, nudging Ash to keep moving down the stairs and forcing myself to follow.

Calum wasn't making breakfast, at least not anymore. There were some leftovers on the table, looking like they had barely been touched, but Cal's dirty plate was next to the sink proving otherwise. The man himself was snoring on the couch, knitted blanket thrown haphazardly over his lap. His hands were shoved between his knees, head dipped forward. He looked frozen, and I was moving toward him before I could stop myself, readjusting the blanket so it was fully covering him, and then turning to the thermostat on the wall and turning the heat up considerably.

Ashton watched me the whole time, looking inexplicably crestfallen. I quirked an eyebrow when I caught him, and he offered a tired smile, leaning against the door frame. "You don't deserve this, Luke. You're an angel."

This time, I did laugh. A real one.

"He was cold." I explained with a shrug as I left the room, returning to the kitchen to pick at the food Calum left out.

"It's not just that."

He didn't elaborate, so I let myself chew in silence for a while.

"He's not here, Ash. He didn't come to me." I said casually, as if my soul wasn't being crushed, "Doesn't that prove enough for you? It's over. Whatever I thought might happen between us is done. He doesn't even like me enough to stay friends."

Ashton wouldn't meet my eyes, so I deemed the conversation over, pulling out a chair and sitting hard. 

"He's the one who made us come here." Calum said, appearing in the doorway, wearing the blanket around his shoulders like a cape.

"What?" I said, shocked.

"Cal," Ashton hissed, shaking his head slightly when Calum looked at him.

"What? It's true. This back-and-forth is fucking stupid. They're both miserable."

I felt my breath hitch. Why was Michael miserable? Was it my fault? Did I hurt him?

"Someone explain. Now." I demanded, but I probably sounded more desperate than authoritative.

I watched them share a look, Calum remaining sure and steady whilst Ashton's shoulders deflated after a moment, obviously giving in. He sighed before turning to face me, letting his eyes wander around the room for a bit before actually looking at me.

"When Michael heard you on the phone, he... Like, I don't even know how to describe it, but he was ruined. He practically collapsed on the floor, sobbing. He made Cal book the plane tickets because he was crying too heard to see his phone screen. He made us come here."

"Not that we weren't going to, anyway." Calum interjected, leaning over the table to steal a strawberry.

"Duh. But the point is, Luke, that Michael loves you. I have no clue why he thought it was a good idea to break your heart, but he's here. He's too scared to face you-"

"-As he should be." Cal cut in, and the very idea of Calum berating Mike in a serious sense - regardless of how small it was - was what convinced me that they weren't just lying to make me talk to him. Because Calum was a great friend, and too loyal for his own good, but he wasn't dumb, and he wasn't a liar.

"Right. But he flew all the way here for you, and then he realized that maybe his plan to make you hate him worked, and you wouldn't want to see him, and he chickened out." Ashton continued.

"Why would he want to make me hate him?" I asked, feeling breathless for some reason.

Calum rolled his eyes while Ashton shrugged. "I don't know, mate, but he's sitting in his old room right now, probably ripping his hair out thinking that he's fucked everything up for good this time."

 

******************

 

I was almost sure that they had been lying to me when they said Michael was home, because it was silent. I expected music blasting, or inexpensive trinkets being smashed, but there was nothing.

Based on the time of day and lack of cars in the driveway, I knew Michael's parents were at work. If Mike was in there at all, he'd be alone.

I stood outside the front door for a long time, debating if I should knock or just march in, demanding answers I would never get. It wouldn't be the first time.

Eventually, I decided to knock. Immediately afterward, though, I changed my mind and pushed the door open, momentarily stung by the familiarity of it all. Michael should have been on his way to answer the door, or at least contemplating it, but he was just sitting on the sofa, staring at the black screen of the tv.

I waited until he looked at me. I didn't know if it was for the drama, or because I was so shocked at his appearance that I physically couldn't do anything. He looked horrible. There were fresh tear tracks on his face, his eyes were bloodshot and puffy, and he was wearing his I'm sad please help sweater. When he finally looked at me, his entire expression changed from Blank Sad Puppy After Being Kicked By His Owner, to Hopeful-But-Guilty Dog After Being Caught Eating All The Cat's Food. He stood up so fast I almost had to take a step back. He had been so still when I first walked in, not even registering the sound of the door, that I was concerned he had died and was now stuck in a state of rigor mortis.

"Luke," He said, and it sounded incredibly similar to a plea.

"I left. Just like you wanted. And now I'm running back. Just like always."

He almost reached for me, but held himself back at the last minute. My eyes flickered to his hand, where he was clenching his phone in his fist. His knuckles were white, and I was worried he'd break the phone in half. He was stronger than he thought.

As I kept looking, though, I realized the screen was lit up and open to a text conversation. There was no contact photo, and he was too far away for me to read the name or any of the messages. It had to be important, because as soon as he saw what I was looking at, he shoved it into his pocket, carefully positioning his arm in front of it to block any attempts I might make to grab it. Honestly, I didn't think either of us were in the mood for that.

"Luke," He said again, sounding even more desperate than the first time. I willed my face to stay blank. I had to have the upper hand for once.

"What?" I challenged, knowing he probably had nothing to say.

His face fell and his shoulders slumped.

But I knew Michael. I knew what he looked like when he was beat at his own game, when something didn't go his way, when he was defeated. And this wasn't it.

This. This was true misery. He was upset, and worried, and angry. It was the type of look you'd expect from someone who was chained to a wall. He was begging me to let him go.

"What, Michael." I continued, beginning to get angry.

"I'm sorry." He said, eyes watering.

"For what."

"Luke..."

"Michael. Do you want me to leave?" I asked, stoic.

He took a step forward, eyes begging me to stay. "No, please, just hear me out-"

"No, Michael. Do you want me to leave the band?"

He froze, mouth open slightly. I waited.

"No." He said, and then he was crying.

I wanted to comfort him. I wanted to step forward and pull him into my arms and rub his back and I wanted to kiss his tears away. But I stayed perfectly still, forcing my feet to stay planted to the carpet.

"I can't, Luke. I can't." He sobbed. My resolve was cracking.

"You can't what?"

"I can't do this. I love you, Luke. So much. So fucking much. But I can't. I can't."

He looked absolutely devastated, and I couldn't help myself from touching him. He fell into my chest easily, letting me wrap him up in a tight hug. He was cold, maybe even shivering, and I let myself warm him up, knowing it might be the last time.

"Please come back," He whimpered, grasping at the front of my shirt. "Please don't leave me."

 

**********2 MONTHS LATER***************

 

I had never officially left the band, so re-joining was less weird than I thought it'd be. After a week or so, Ash and Cal began to act like nothing had happened. In the hopes of not creating any more drama or tension, nobody mentioned that Michael and I rarely spoke.

We still lived together, still acted like best friends during concerts and interviews. But when we were alone, with no fans or cameras, it was like there was an invisible wall between us. We barely even looked at each other. He mostly stayed in his room, only coming out if one of the other guys had come over. He pretended that he had never begged me to stay. That he had never told me he loved me. That he didn't know I loved him, too.

It was hard, because he was still my best friend. I would do anything for him. But he wouldn't interact with me in any way, and I was too afraid to be the one to initiate anything. I knew from experience that it wouldn't end well.

When the guys were around, he tried to make the rift between us less obvious, but they could tell there was something going on. Nobody spoke about it. I didn't blame them.

The worst part was that I had no idea why any of it was happening. After Michael begged me to come back and told me he loved me, I thought we'd just ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after. We all flew back to LA a couple days after Mike and I spoke, and everything seemed fine. On the plane, he chose to sit next to me and we shared headphones the whole time. During the landing, he even held my hand, knowing that it was my least favourite part of flights. I thought it would begin the next step in our relationship, but looking back on it, we had done all those things since the moment we became friends. Nothing had changed. And then, everything did.

As soon as we got off the plane, we had a short meeting with management and then we all went home, and Michael stopped talking to me. He went to his room and shut the door. When I knocked later, wondering if maybe he'd want to watch a movie and cuddle and 'accidentally' fall asleep in the same bed, he didn't even answer the door.

There was no explanation for his behaviour. He gave me no hints. I almost regretted coming back.

 

******************

 

Radio interviews were a funny thing. There's always an air of safety, because nobody can see you - just hear your voice. You don't have to hide the way you're looking at someone in fear of viewer speculation, or make sure your hair isn't falling unattractively in your face. The makeup people come and fix your face beforehand, and it's so routine that you don't think anything of it. You can bite your nails when someone else is doing the talking and not worry that someone will think it's gross. All that matters is the way you sound - which, as a musician, is usually my biggest priority anyway.

But the thing about radio interviews is that, despite the air of safety that comes with them, you are being filmed. You're being live-streamed to the world, and there are thousands of people watching you in real time, and then even more people watching you later, looking up the video online and analyzing everything you do.

I knew that. Of course I did, we'd done many of these things before. But somehow, each time, I always found it so much easier to be natural and uncaring of how I was presenting myself. I could see the cameras moving around the room, searching for the best angles, but it was as if they were just silly props. I paid no attention to them.

"So, you guys have a new album coming out," One of the radio presenters said excitedly, looking between us.

"Yes! I think it's our best one yet." Ashton answered her, smile so wide I was sure it had to hurt. I didn't bother smiling. I was tired and bored and hungry and couldn't stop staring at Michael, who had been conveniently placed on the opposite side of the table. He wasn't far enough away that I couldn't kick him, if I wanted to, and I found myself having to hold back from doing so. I just wanted him to look at me, to acknowledge that I existed.

"That's so amazing! I feel like you guys just skyrocketed to fame so fast. How are you all dealing with the constant attention? Do you like it?" She asked, laughing lightheartedly.

I found myself zoning out, alternating between staring at Michael and the tabletop in front of me. I felt like he was purposely ignoring me.

Like usual, Ash took the lead on answering questions. Calum backed him up and provided support, and Michael shared a few anecdotes from tour life. I spoke whenever Calum would subtly elbow my ribs, trying to knock me back into the current moment.

I could tell the people interviewing us were getting weirded out by the way I was acting. I kept stumbling over my words, and had to ask them to repeat the question every time I was expected to speak.

Ashton was sending me looks I couldn't decipher, but I was ignoring them. Even the people operating the cameras had begun to avoid me.

"Okay, so we have a few questions sent in by fans, so we're gonna get you to answer them rapid-fire style." The other person, a guy, said. "Alright. I'm gonna start with Ash, here. What is the funniest thing that happened on your last tour?"

Ashton instantly went off on a tangent, talking with his hands and giving too many unimportant details, obviously not really understanding the concept of answering rapidly.

Calum was asked what food he would eat if he could only eat one thing for the rest of his life, and I was asked to describe my favourite fan moment. I had answered very generically, saying that I loved all the fans and there were so many great moments we've had, and then offered a few examples.

"Alright, Michael. Your turn. You ready?" The woman asked, squinting her eyes at him as if she wasn't asking us the most basic questions she could.

Michael, always polite, laughed loudly and leaned forward, bracing his arms on the table. "Yeah. Hit me with your best shot."

"If your house was on fire and every member of five-sauce was inside, and you could only save one person, who would it be and why?"

Instantly, Michael's eyes flickered to me. I wouldn't have noticed it if I hadn't already been staring at him. I felt my stomach turn in the best way. But then he glanced at something behind me, and his entire demeanour changed.

He turned back to the woman, laughing and pretending to think. "Well, Ash is built like a fireman so I feel like he should have got this question, but fine. Uh, so yeah Ash would probably be able to get out fine anyway. I wouldn't have to worry about him. Calum...I don't know. I feel like Calum pretends to be, like, really manly, but he's really just a five year old on the inside. He'd probably just hide in his room and hope the fire didn't reach him. I'd probably have to save him."

I tried not to let it show how much it hurt that he didn't even mention me. He justified why he wouldn't save Ashton; he could save himself. But when it came to me, there was nothing. Would he just let me die?

Apparently, the host also noticed. Grinning, she asked, "What about Luke? You'd just leave him?"

Michael faltered, once again glancing behind me. I kept my eyes trained on him, frowning. I wanted to know what he was going to say just as much as the woman did.

"Luke would be fine. Luke would be the first one out, screaming his head off."

"Yeah," Calum chipped in, sensing the awkwardness dripping off of Mike. "We'd probably find him hours later at, like, a Mcdonald's or something.

Ashton giggled, and because I was still looking, I saw the grateful look Michael sent to Cal. I instantly switched my gaze to Calum, who looked surprisingly displeased. I furrowed my eyebrows, and when he caught me looking, he made a funny face to try and distract me. It didn't work, but I let him think it did.

It was nearing the end of the interview when the next thing happened.

We were asked what we like to do in our spare time to relax. The other guys gave the standard answers; seeing family, sleeping, drinking. I, because I was curious and maybe a bit masochistic, decided to test something out.

"Michael and I live together," I started, smiling innocently when Michael looked at me, seemingly nervous, "So I usually make him cuddle with me and watch movies until we fall asleep."

I was aware of the implications behind my words, but I decided the risk was worth it, because Michael also knew what it meant, and he looked behind me again. Quickly, I spun around in my seat, eyes landing on our publicist and a member of our management, who both looked very unhappy. They were sending Michael looks, but carefully fixed their faces into blank masks when I turned. They weren't quite fast enough, however, and I was out of my seat before anyone could say anything.

"Alright. Interview over. Thank you so much for having us." I said, walking over to Michael, who looked shocked, and pulling him out of his chair.

Ashton was apologizing to anyone who would listen, and Calum just looked tired. He didn't seem bothered by what was happening, but rather like he was at peace now that it finally was happening.

I grabbed Mike's hand and dragged him to the nearest bathroom I could find, locking the door once we were inside and turning to face him. He looked scared.

"You love me." I said.

"I do." He told me.

"You do." I breathed, nodding slightly, feeling euphoric. "And, what? They told you not to?"

He stiffened, looking suddenly sheepish. He shrugged. "Said they'd drop us."

My eyebrows shot up. "If you did what?"

He shrugged again, not looking at me. He reached out and took one of my hands, then ignored it and focused on playing with the end of my sleeve. It was too gentle a gesture for the gravity of the situation, and it made my heart flutter.

"If I pursued you in any way. If I made it too obvious. If I told you." He said softly, glancing up at me before refocusing on my sleeve.

I stared at him. He looked so soft and fragile. I had been so angry with him for so long because I was confused and heartbroken and betrayed, and now I knew it had never been his fault. He had been blackmailed into hiding how he felt, and he reacted by pushing me away. It hurt like hell, but at least now I could understand it better.

"I love you." I said, and realized it was the first time I'd said it, which was wrong, so I said it again. "I love you."

Briefly, I thought about how Ash and Cal would react to all of this, but as I was pulling Michael in, I figured they'd be fine with it. We would always be Friends before Bandmates, anyway. Let them drop us. Let them pull our albums off the shelves and make the world forget about us. Michael tasted like heaven, and his lips were soft, and he loved me.

P.S. The world didn't forget about us.

P.P.S. Fuck you, management.

**Author's Note:**

> the ending was ruSHED OKAY!?  
> i hope you liked it anyway and if u did u can talk to me about it/muke/anything on my tumblr @monorchism :):):)  
> #spon


End file.
